


The Swaying Willow

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Drabble, Fluff, Post-War, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-09-29
Updated: 2007-09-29
Packaged: 2018-10-27 13:33:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10810032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: Dean and Luna spend a few moments together in a changed world.





	The Swaying Willow

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

The orange glow of the sun rising over the hills splashed a warmth across Dean’s face as he leaned against the twisted trunk of the Whomping Willow.  The warmth of the sun and the slight chill of the breeze held in it a promise of freedom and the possibility of life, things Dean could not comprehend after spending a year on the run.  His gaze moved from the horizon filling to the brim with light, to the usually aggressive branches of the willow tree gracefully being pulled about by the wind just above him.  Dean admired the willow for so quickly giving in to the new found calm; if only he could say the same of himself.  His mind drifted over the memories of the year past, of the deaths he witnessed and those he did not prevent, of the old friends he’d fought along side and those he just recently met laying their lives down for him.  With a heavy mind, he shut his eyes and lay his cheek along his arms perched atop his knees.  No silence came.  The birds carried on and the wind whistled through the bright forest formerly known as Dark.  He focused on his breathing, deep and uninhibited by a worldly sense of fear.  Focused on his intake and exhalation of breath, he nearly missed the soft voice floating on the wind, “...don’t you think so?”

 

“Hmm?” Dean questioned half heartedly.

 

“Orange.  It quite fits the moment.” 

 

Dean starred wordlessly at the bright orange sky.

 

“It should be turing blue about now, but this day will be different.”

 

Dean felt a slight grin draw across his face.  True, this day would be different and so would all the days to follow.

 

“Tomorrow, blue returns to the sky and all becomes as it was.”

 

“No,” he almost didn’t hear himself say it, “it will never be as it was.”

 

“Good.”  Simple as that, the voice replied and his worries floated away on the wind.

 

Tears fell discreetly from Dean’s eyes, but did not go unnoticed.  He felt gentle lips brush a tear from his cheek and a small hand on his shoulder.  As lips and hand began to fall away, Dean felt an intense flux in his heart and quickly reached across to hold the hand securely against his chest.

 

Moments.

 

“Your heart beats rather fast. Here, feel mine.” Luna grabbed Dean’s hand and placed it over her right breast.  Shocked, Dean looked sheepishly into Luna’s face, but she had closed her eyes. She spoke up about a minute later, “See, your heart beats at at rate of 100 beats per minute.”  Dean’s eyes drifted toward his hand firmly against Luna’s chest.  “Of course, it’s sure to be raised do to our situation,” she added.

 

“Ou-our sit-tuation?” he stammered as his eyes snapped back to her face and his hand tensed wanting simultaneously to pull away and to become part of Luna’s supple breast.

 

“Well, we all just spent the night fighting for our lives...”

 

“...oh...”

 

“...and you have your hand on my breast,” she finished in a neutral tone.  Dean’s face burned with blood as he broke into uncontrollable laughter.  The pair collapsed into a fit of hysterics under the swaying willow, orange sky, and free world.


End file.
